Puberty and Facing the Music
by askandiwilllie
Summary: The curse is broken, and Emma, Snow and David want to know how. Henry spends the night in his old room.


_I had a good response to Puberty and Spending Time with the Mayor, so… yeah, sequel happened. Much more serious than the first, sorry about that._

* * *

Not five minutes after the curse breaks, there's a screech of tires and then pounding at the door, and Regina opens it to a wide-eyed Emma, David and Snow right behind her, holding onto each other like they'll never let go.

"Where's Henry?" Emma asks, her eyes flicking all around, as if the boy will materialize out of thin air.

Regina shifts uncomfortably, but the movement is so fleeting that no one catches it. "He's having a shower," she states, like it's the most natural thing in the world. The curse breaks and her son is bathing. No big deal.

Emma clearly thinks she's lost her sanity, and maybe she has. "A shower?" she asks, her tone laden with doubt.

It puts Regina on the defensive, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "Yes," she snaps, "a shower. He **ran** all the way here from the apartment, now that he knows it's his house as well, he felt comfortable bathing. Is that a problem?"

"Whoa, hey, no," Emma holds up her hands, much the same way she did when Snow was so horrified at Henry's claim that she'd checked out his other mother. Then she remembers that _he'd_ checked out his other mother, and her eyes narrow. "How did the curse break, anyway?"

Regina rolls her eyes, clearly this conversation isn't going to be short and sweet, and steps further into the house, leaving the door open in semi-invitation. As she strides into her study, heading straight for the sideboard and the alcohol therein, she sighs in exasperation and snarks, "As flattered as I am to be the apparent center of your universe, Miss Swan, what on earth makes you think that **I** know how the curse was broken?"

"Because you just avoided the question," Emma says, sounding smug.

"So you do know how the curse was broken?" It's Snow's voice now, soft and curious, and Regina bypasses her cider for something a little harder.

"Yes, I know how the curse was broken," Regina declares, finally turning back to face the group that was gathered (unwelcomely) in her home. "It was a private moment between myself and my son, and I would prefer it stay that way."

Emma's eyes narrow, David looks concerned, and Snow's brow wrinkles in confusion.

"_What_?" Regina growls. The slowly dawning light in Emma and David's eyes worries her, but her mask is good enough that she doesn't let it show. Although she is concerned that David's starting to look like he might vomit on her floor.

"It's just… Henry expressed some… _concerning_ opinions before he came here," Emma says slowly, and Regina can feel the blonde watching her for any sign of understanding.

She's saved having to answer by the situation getting worse, as Henry calls, "Mom, I'm gonna text Emma and let her know I'm staying the night here…" he trails off as he comes around the corner, dressed in pajama pants that are a year too small and a bathrobe that mostly hides that fact. "Uh… hi," he says, already blushing as everyone looks at him.

"You're staying here?" Snow asks, her voice high-pitched as she catches on to the subtext in the room.

Regina watches as Henry shuffles his feet, and her heart aches for her son. "Um, yeah," he mumbles, looking down. "I figured, y'know, I really haven't stayed here since the first curse broke, so…"

David's eyes are bouncing back and forth between Regina and Henry, and he's the one to speak what he, his wife, and daughter are so obviously thinking. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"And what is **that** supposed to mean?" Regina's temper flares again, and her fingers tighten around the glass in her hands.

"Regina," Snow's turn, "how did the curse break."

Regina narrows her eyes, her demeanor turning frosty. "I told you," Henry pales immediately, "that is between myself and my _son_."

Her inflection, meant to silence any questions, makes everyone look at Henry, who still hasn't regained his normal color.

"Therapy. For. Life," Emma mutters, digging her hands into her pockets and looking like she wants to soak her brain in bleach. Regina can't exactly blame her.

"I'm going to bed," Henry says loudly, and immediately flees, throwing a "Night!" over his shoulder, and then his bedroom door slams shut, leaving Regina with three pairs of eyes on her, the emotions in them varying from worried to reproachful to disturbed.

"It's late," Regina points out, wanting nothing more than silence with her all too turbulent thoughts. Emma holds up one hand as Regina moves to usher them out of her house, and she sighs deeply. "Yes, Miss Swan?"

"One question. Did he kiss you, or did you kiss him?"

Regina's offense and horror overcome her better judgement. "Miss Swan, if you're suggesting that I would—" she cut herself off, keenly aware of how much she's just revealed.

"I'm gonna… car…" David mutters, waving a hand toward the door and then fleeing, Snow hurrying after him.

Emma stays just long enough to state, "He's going to see Archie tomorrow."

Sighing, Regina nods. "Agreed." As would she, but Emma didn't need to know that.

Regina closes the door behind the blonde, sighing deeply now that everyone was out of her house. After tossing back her drink and rinsing out the glass, she makes her way upstairs and knocks on Henry's door before peeking her head in. Unsurprisingly, he's awake and sitting up in bed, a comic in his hands. "Hi, Mom." His smile is nervous.

"Henry…" She steps into the room and makes her way over to the bed, perching on the edge like she's always done. "I think we need to talk."

Henry's eyes go wide and she can easily read the panic in them. "We… we really, _really_ don't," he says, an endearing mix of hope and desperation.

"We do," Regina counters, and reaches out to brush her fingers through his hair. He relaxes into the touch automatically now, the decade of his life she spent soothing him in that exact way making its presence known. "But not about what you're thinking."

"You're not mad that I… kissed you?" he asks, voice strangled and cracking, and when did he grow up so much? She remembers the little boy with a mischievous grin and skinned knees, and here he is, voice deepening and wanting to kiss girls.

"I'm not upset that _you_ kissed me, if that's what you're worried about," she soothes, because after all, he didn't know that she's his mother. "But I think we need to talk about kissing people without their permission."

Henry blinks, looking very much like she's suddenly started speaking Elvish. "Seriously?"

Regina's eyes narrow at her son. "You say that like you don't think consent is important."

"N-no, that's not what I meant!" he hurriedly assures her. "It's just… of everything, **that's** what you want to talk about?" His hands are fiddling with the edge of his blanket, and he suddenly won't meet her eyes, and Regina can't help but wonder what he's thinking.

"I think that's the most important thing that needs to be discussed," she clarifies. "Anything else can wait until we've both had time to… process."

He glances up at her then, curiously, then back down as he quietly asks, "If I'd asked… would you have said yes?"

"Of course not," Regina replies, thinking the answer obvious. She's surprised when Henry flinches slightly. "Henry…" She hooks a finger under his chin and lifts his face so she can look into his eyes. "You're my **son**. And you're only twelve."

The red that colors his cheeks surprises her, makes her wonder, makes her worry, but he nods stiffly. "Yeah, I know, Mom. I was just wondering."

They're both uncomfortable now, he's revealed too much, and she can't wrap her mind around any of it.

"Well," she says suddenly, the sound making them **both** jump. "My point was to be sure that you're aware that kissing someone without their permission is _wrong_. You never take what a person isn't willing to give. Do you understand?"

He nods, mumbling a yes, and her hand falls away from his chin. She smiles then, and leans forward, pressing her lips to his forehead. "I love you, my little prince."

"I love you, too, Mom," he says, and she isn't sure if it's because he's growing up, because he hasn't said those words to her in over a year, or because of how the curse broke, but something in his voice sounds _different_ and she isn't sure she likes it.

Still, she leaves his room with a quiet "goodnight" and retreats to her own bed, a sleepless night stretching before her.


End file.
